


Cure For The Itch

by icewhisper



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Vampire AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 03:45:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7205990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icewhisper/pseuds/icewhisper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time a vampire bit Puck, the world fell away. He lost himself in it, digging himself into a hole so deep that he didn't care what he'd become. Humans would have called him an addict. Vampires called him a blood whore. Finn wanted to help. Puck wanted Finn to bite him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cure For The Itch

**Author's Note:**

> The nature of vampire bites in this universe is reminiscent of drug use. It details use, addiction, and non-explicit sex while under the influence that could be interpreted as dub-con.

In all honesty, he found out about vampires by mistake. A party in some rundown house that probably should have been condemned years ago and too much Jack clouding his mind as he tried to numb the pain of the baby he didn’t have anymore. The baby that he’d let Shelby take home, because he hadn’t been able to tell Quinn that, yeah, he wanted to keep her. Couldn’t tell her, not when he had already fucked up Quinn’s life so much. If she had wanted to give Beth up and get back to her old life, he couldn’t complicate it. Not more than he already had.

He had been drunk more often than sober at that point, taking full advantage of just how absent his mom really was and how much his sister didn’t need him. She had her friends’ brothers to act like good role models.

Drunk or not, though, maybe he should have noticed the way the guys he was with looked. Too pale. The weird glimpses of eye teeth that were too long whenever they smiled too wide. He hadn’t, though. He hadn’t noticed or maybe he hadn’t cared as some guy—Ryan, he thought—leaned into his ear and offered him a high like no other.

He had taken it without thinking. Nodded and groaned out some plea for it, because even with the alcohol, it hadn’t numbed the feeling that something had been torn out of his chest.

_“It’ll only hurt for a second.”_

It had. A second of terror when he finally registered the fangs as his neck was exposed and a flash of pain before nothing mattered. Nothing else was there. Just the high. Just some overwhelming feeling of bliss. Nothing hurt anymore. Nothing. It was the first time in a month that he hadn’t thought about Beth and as horrible as it was, it was a relief. No pain. No guilt.

Ryan had passed him back and forth between his buddies, lulling him back into that oblivion every time he started to resurface, and he hadn’t cared. The only thing that had mattered to him was the high and the world in his head.

By the time he made it home again, he had been gone a week. He stumbled in, still dazed as the last bite wore off, and his mom had barely blinked. Like she hadn’t noticed the time passing any more than he had. Maybe she had been bitten too, he thought. Tossed the idea to the side, because his mom’s neck wasn’t covered in bruises like his was. She just hadn’t realized. Maybe she simply hadn’t cared.

He spent most of summer break with Ryan, figuring out bits and pieces of vampires as time went on. Figured out that they didn’t kill, that they couldn’t because they couldn’t risk the attention if humans started to figure them out. Figured out that the bites gave off some kind of endorphin that got him feeling the way he did. Figured out that there was a term for people that did what he was doing, for what he was becoming.

Blood whore.

Somehow, it didn’t bother him as much as it should have. He took it without a thought every time someone sank their fangs into his neck and the world fell away.

Addictive.

Dangerous.

The guys disappeared when summer ended, flying back out to their colleges before the semesters could start. It left him alone, though, alone and aching for bites he didn’t have anymore because his sources had abandoned him. They’d find someone else, but he was having a harder time. Vampires could blend in too well if they hid their fangs. No invitation rules. No burning in the sun, even if they _did_ get uncomfortable. No holy water issues. Every vampire franchise out there had lied and it made his search harder.

Until he figured Finn out, at least.

Looking back on it, he should have figured it out a lot sooner. Finn wasn’t half as graceful as the other guys, but the more he thought about it, the more their looks matched. Finn _had_ had some issue when they were kids, some food thing that he always had to go home for. Humans, he realized now. He had needed to feed. Kids needed more.

He looked up from his notebook, Schue’s voice some kind of white noise as he caught sight of Finn near the front row. Seated by alphabetical order and Finn had lucked out that his desk was closer to the wall than to the window. The guy always had a fidgeting problem when he was stuck sitting in the sun too long.

Schue said something, the words as lost to him as they had been all day, and Finn smiled. He hid the fangs, Puck noticed. Ryan and his friends never had, choosing instead to just smile and talk around them in that little game they liked to play. Finn retracted his, hid them away like there wasn’t anything deadly or addicting about his smile.

Puck’s neck ached with the phantom pain of bite bruises. How long had it been?

The bell rang and he stayed where he was for a second, his hand rubbing at his neck as he watched Rachel get up. She caught Finn in a kiss before he had time to stand and Puck wondered if she knew. Ryan had said they weren’t immortal. They aged and they died just like humans did, but with an extra decade or two to their lifespan. Maybe she didn’t know, he thought. He doubted the vegan in her would be okay with her boyfriend gulping down blood like it was a slushie.

Finn laughed at something, smiling wide and his lips pulled back so far that Puck caught a glimpse of his gums before he finally grabbed his own things and made his escape. He couldn’t keep watching Finn like that, he told himself as shaking fingers worked out the combination on his locker. People were going to start thinking he had some kind of dude crush on the guy and the last thing he needed was some rumor going around that Finn’s why the stuff with Quinn happened. It wasn’t true.

He looked down the hallway when he heard Sam’s voice and he felt something in his chest twist. Sam’s arm thrown over Quinn’s shoulder. The way he smiled at her, like he didn’t realize the one she was giving him was half-assed. She loved Sam about as much as he’d loved Rachel for that one week they dated. Sam served a purpose, someone to help her get back on top. They wouldn’t last much longer and maybe he would have given Sam a heads up if that angry part of him that still loved her didn’t want to hate Sam for having her. He had never had Quinn. Maybe he had been stupid to think he ever would.

He slammed his locker shut a little harder than he probably needed to and sighed when he realized he hadn’t actually grabbed anything. He’d tossed his Spanish book in, but his English one was still there, shoved back behind his gym bag. He opened the locker again, his shoulders heavy. It might be time to track down that club Ryan had talked about, he thought. A feeder bar, he’d called it. Somewhere for the humans in the know to get a bite while the vampires got a snack. A month ago, he’d sworn to himself that he wouldn’t go there, but as time went on… Hell, he was running out of options. He felt like he was losing his damn mind.

“Dude, are you okay?”

He almost jumped at the sound of Finn’s voice over his shoulder and he shut his locker too early _again_. “Fine,” he said as he spun out the combination for the third time in probably as many minutes.

“You look weird.” Finn frowned and he could feel the guy watching him. Last year, it would have been normal. Between the two of them, Finn had always been the more sensible one. Where he failed in book smarts, he made up for it in caring about people and watching out for them. He always called Finn a mother hen for it. Back then, it had been said with some kind of joking affection, but now…

He glanced at Finn and at the way human teeth bit at his bottom lip. Finn worrying about him now meant Finn figuring him out. Figuring out that he’d figured him out by figuring out vampires and… God, he wasn’t with it enough to follow that train of thought. “Gee, thanks.”

“You’re shaking.”

He shrugged and finally grabbed his stupid English book. “It’s getting cold,” he muttered. “Gotta get to class.”

“You haven’t gone to English since seventh grade.” Finn’s frown deepened and he grabbed Puck’s arm. “Dude, I know stuff’s still weird, but…”

He almost snorted. Weird? Things were still _bad_. They had long since stopped trying to attack each other, but they weren’t even close to okay. They didn’t talk. He wondered if Finn realized this was the first time he’d initiated any kind of conversation in months. “Things change,” he said and he wasn’t sure what exactly he was replying to, the weirdness or him actually going to class, but he pulled his arm free and walked away.

He’d find someone else, he told himself as he shouldered his way past a group of freshmen. He had to. If he didn’t find another vampire soon… Maybe he could give Ryan a call. The guy had to have some friends left in town, right?

He didn’t. The guy texted back two hours after he’d left a voicemail, blowing him off more than anything. He didn’t have any friends left in the area that were into it. Most vampires went through the proper channels, using their designated feeders.

_Any chance I can become one?_

_You’re too young._

Ryan stopped replying after that and the days started to bleed together. He stopped going to school when there stopped being any point in going. He couldn’t lift himself out of the needy fog and people had already started giving him strange looks for the way he kept staring at Finn. Couldn’t let him find out. Couldn’t let him find out. He doubted there was rehab for blood whores, but he wasn’t going to find out either.

It was snowing by the time he caved and took himself to the feeder bar. Months without a bite and what had probably been weeks since the constant rubbing at his neck turned into scratching. He didn’t want to think about how he looked, but as he walked into the bar that night, he realized he didn’t care.

The place was packed, full of vampires that weren’t bothering to hide their fangs and with people like him that were feeling the high of the bites.

Hands fell on his hips and a body pressed up against his back, swaying to the music. He leaned into what he could feel was a man’s chest, his head tilted to the side, and breathed out what might have been a _please_ as the guy’s breath blew hot against his neck.

The jolt of pain as fangs broke skin.

His eyes rolled back as he let out a satisfied moan. He probably sounded like some guy getting his first drink of water after escaping a desert, but he didn’t care.

The endorphins hit him and he stopped caring about anything.

The night—it could have been days for all he knew—passed in a blurry haze. Fangs in his neck and his arms. Hands touching him as his clothes were stripped away. His body arching up into some faceless stranger’s as he pleaded for more. More bites. More pleasure. He gave into the high the same way his body gave into the things he’d told himself he’d never touch. Men. The feel of another guy’s body against his. The need. The want.

A woman came at some point. Maybe more than one. Rough hands traded out for softer ones as his mind drifted. He kissed whoever pressed their lips to his. Touched whoever touched him. Came when an accented voice told him to before fangs bit into his skin again.

He should have come here sooner.

And just like that, it was over. He only kind of remembered someone pulling the person on top of him off. He didn’t remember the words, not even sure if he had heard them at all as he gave a needy whine, but people stopped touching him after that and he fell back down to earth. Broke through the happy fog he had never wanted to leave.

When he came to enough to realize no one was touching him anymore, the bar had quieted and he was on a bed in the back with some guy in ripped jeans glaring down at him.

“Your ID’s a fake.”

Puck sat up, the room spinning as he tried to focus on the pale face of the man in front of him. “What?” He blinked slowly as his brain fought to wake up more. Conversation. He needed to speak.

“We don’t let minors in here. Coulda got a lot of people in serious trouble,” the guy said gruffly. “Go back to your mommy, kid. This ain’t an episode of Buffy.”

“I’m not…” He trailed off, swallowing around a tongue that felt like it was made of cotton.

“Sober up and go home. I don’t want to see you back here.” The guy’s face softened, but his arms stayed crossed over his chest. “Get over the bites before you can’t. A little fun when you’re a teenager doesn’t mean you wanna be a blood whore the rest of your life.”

He was gone before Puck could find the words to tell him that he was pretty sure he had already gone too far. There had to be a tipping point with the bites that decided when there was no going back and he was almost positive that had happened a long time ago.

The world was still on an axis when he stumbled out of the bar a while later, his hand trailing against the wall to hold himself up while his body ached in places that were and weren’t familiar.

They never let him back in there.

He never went back to school.

Finn came looking for him around Christmas, dressed up in clothes that were too dressy for school or even for his family’s holiday celebrations. Sectionals, he realized dully as he leaned against the wall and scratched at his neck. Or was it Regionals? He couldn’t remember anymore. Couldn’t focus on anything other than the way his body begged for a bite.

“Dude, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled. He pressed his eyes shut for a second before he opened them again, struggling to hold focus on Finn’s face. “What do you want?”

“To know what’s going on,” Finn said as he stepped closer. There was still a foot between them as they stood in the living room of his empty house, but it felt closer. Felt like Finn was right on top of him as his eyes fell down to watch the guy’s mouth. His fangs were still retracted. Still pretending to be human. “Everyone’s worried.”

They weren’t. Finn was. No one else had ever come looking.

“M’good.”

“You haven’t been to school in two months.”

Was that all? Felt longer, he thought. “So?”

“So you’re gonna flunk junior year.” Finn moved closer again, one hand on Puck’s shoulder as the other cupped his chin and held his head still. “Look at me.” He raised his eyes up at the command and Finn frowned. “Are you on something?”

He wished. “No.”

“Then, what? You don’t look right. You look like…” He trailed off and Puck watched Finn’s eyes widen like he’d figured it out or like he was catching himself from saying that Puck looked like a strung out blood whore. “Dude…”

“You can say it,” he told him as he finally stopped scratching at his neck. “Known for a while.”

Huh. Finn _could_ go paler. Weird. “You’ve…”

He huffed out a breath and crossed his arms over his chest. Without his hand covering up his neck, Finn could see the last few bite bruises. They were almost gone, but one look and the guy would know they weren’t hickies. “Can we skip the stupid Twilight talk?”

“The what?” Finn asked, his voice almost at a squeak. He looked ready to rabbit, even with both of his hands still holding onto Puck. His shoulder. His chin.

“You’re a vampire. I know,” he said, his voice oddly steady considering the fact that he could barely hold focus on the guy’s face. “I want you to bite me.”

He wasn’t sure if Finn gaping at him had made the silence stretch or if his mind had just drifted, but he saw Finn shake his head, almost frantic. “No! Are you insane?!” His voice definitely squeaked that time, sounding kind of like it used to when he was going through puberty. Puck barely held in the snort.

“No. I’m _going_ insane,” he corrected him. “The dudes at the feeder bar figured out my ID was a fake and Ryan’s back at Stanford. There’s no one fucking else.” Maybe that wasn’t true, he thought. There probably _were_ more vampires in Ohio. Enough between Lima and Dayton to fill that bar. He’d consider trying to figure them out like he’d figured out Finn, but he didn’t know if he had that kind of brain power left in him.

“Ryan? Who’s…” Finn trailed off, shaking his head, and reached up to grab his wrist before he could start scratching at his neck again. “Stop that. You went to a _feeder bar_?”

“There’s one in Dayton.”

“I know that.” Wow. That kind of sounded like a snap. Why the hell was Finn so pissed? “Puck, do you even know what kind of people go there?”

He hummed. “Blood whores.”

“You’re not a…” Finn trailed off again, like even he didn’t believe what he was saying. He sighed, looking like some kind of kicked puppy. “What have you done to yourself?”

There were a thousand answers on his lips, all pained and bitter comments about letting his kid go and about the chest-crushing fucking agony that he’d been feeling and that, hey, at least he wasn’t drinking as much anymore. He didn’t say any of those. He didn’t give Finn any kind of explanation as his stare hardened and he stepped closer to the guy that used to be his best friend. Finn still had a loose grip on his wrist and as much as his neck itched with phantom feelings, he didn’t pull it back. “Call me whatever the fuck you want. I don’t care. I told you. I want you to bite me.”

“I’m not going to bite you, Puck. You gotta stop this.”

“Too late.”

“It’s _not_.” Finn backed them up faster than Puck could move and he fell back against the wall behind him as Finn leaned in, eyes desperate. Like he was searching Puck’s face for some kind of proof that he wasn’t this far gone. When his face fell, Puck was pretty sure the search had come up empty. “How did you even find out about vampires?”

“Met some guys over the summer,” he said, words spilling out as he gave Finn some distracted and fragmented story about Ryan and his friends and the haze he’d been in all summer. The perfect fucking oblivion that he’d gotten torn out of when the guys left and the one that had tortured him until he finally gave in and went to the feeder bar.

“How long were you there?”

“Dunno.”

“How many people?”

“Bit me or fucked me?”

Finn flinched and Puck realized that he might have said too much. Oops. “Bit you.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Dunno.”

It was weird. Finn looked like he was some kind of mix of disgusted and heartbroken. He understood the disgust. Understood how vampires looked at blood whores and at how hypocritical it was, because blood whores were the ones that _fed them_. The second look was the one that confused him, though. The heartbreak. Like Finn still cared, even after the way everything between them had gone to shit.

Maybe he’d never stopped caring, he thought. Finn’s heart had always been too big. It fucked him over, never alllowing him let go of the people that had hurt him. Not really. He’d say he was done, but he never was. He wasn’t the kind of guy that could walk away and have that be it. That was why he’d approached him in the school hallway before he’d quit going and why he’d shown up here. He cared too much to let go.

Cared too much to bite him, too, he thought. Or didn’t care enough. Didn’t Finn see he was going out of his mind?

Finn’s other hand touched his cheek in a move that was way too gentle and Puck jumped, wide eyes watching the vampire’s face as fingertips dragged down his cheek and to his neck. Touched smooth skin and the couple of bruises that were still on that side.

“You can’t keep doing this,” Finn told him, his voice soft. “Not even feeders get bit that much, Puck. That’s _why_ most people don’t like the bars. The humans get used up so quick that their bodies give out. You get drained after a while. Them… What that Ryan guy did… They messed you up.”

“Gave me the high of my fucking life.”

“With the kind of crash _no one_ should have.” Oh. Now, he sounded angry. Were there any chairs nearby? His mom would get mad if Finn started kicking them. “That’s what’s hurting you, Puck. My feeder… He doesn’t go through stuff like this.”

The rational part of him—the part that had been effectively shut up by the side of him that needed a bite—worried at that, reminding him that this wasn’t normal. Humans and vampires… It was like he was living out some kind of weird Twilight shit and if he hadn’t been hurting so much when he met Ryan, maybe he wouldn’t have accepted everything so easily. But he _had_ been hurting, so desperate to stop feeling that he had dived right in and fuck everything else. Ryan hadn’t known his story and he hadn’t cared. He and his friends had just found a human for the summer. Whatever happened to him after they’d left… It wasn’t a priority.

It was the harshness and the almost-cruelty that he expected from vampire horror stories.

Finn’s reaction was the exact opposite. Sad and sympathetic eyes that definitely pitied him a bit. The anger that had been there since he’d found out about Quinn had faded over time and, now, as he tried to hold onto hazy memories of hallway conversations months ago, he couldn’t remember if it had still been there before. Did it even matter? No Quinn. No Beth. There was no reminder for either of them to dangle in the other’s face. Nothing but the reminders they made and the pain he _knew_ hadn’t faded from his own eyes.

“I don’t care. I’m not gonna be some stupid project for you,” he told Finn in some kind of weak argument, like he knew what was coming. Finn had that let-me-fix-things look on his face. He didn’t want to be _fixed_. He wanted Finn to fucking bite him.

“You’re going to end up _dead_ ,” Finn said, his voice rising on the last word. Disbelieving. Hurt. Angry. The mix of emotions made his head hurt and he turned his eyes away from Finn’s face to, at least, escape the looks the guy was giving him.

“So bite me.”

“No. I…” Finn bit his lip and with his eyes focused down near the floor instead of on Finn’s face, he saw the way the guy’s hand twitched before it came up and touched his neck again. He had to stop that. He had both hands on his neck now, holding instead of choking while his thumbs rubbed gentle circles over the bruises.

Finn was standing too close, his breath ghosting over his forehead in some uncomfortable reminder about their height difference. Finn was taller and stronger. Vampires were stronger and he knew he was too strung-out to put up a decent fight, anyway. No fighting. No forcing Finn to do anything and give him the oblivion his mind was screaming for. He wouldn’t get it.

His breath shook as he exhaled and turned his eyes up to meet Finn’s. Too soft. Too tender. If it had been a girl, he would have gone in for a kiss. Hell, if he’d been flying like he had been at the club, he might have had the balls to lean in and kiss Finn anyway. Those bites had made him not care about a damn thing. Not about secrets or emptiness or Beth. He’d felt free.

“How long ago did you go to the club?” Finn asked him, eyebrows creased like he was trying to figure something out.

He shrugged a shoulder, wondering if it would dislodge even one of Finn’s hands, but it didn’t. “Dunno. It was snowing when I went,” he said. “Days kind of blend together.”

Finn sighed, heavy and sad, and tilted his head to get a better look at the bruises on Puck’s neck. “These look almost a week old,” he mumbled. Puck wasn’t sure if he was talking to _him_ or to himself, but he felt like he’d failed some sort of test. Like Finn was trying to determine how far gone he was.

He wasn’t even on the damn _planet_ , Finn. Different planet. Different chapter. Different book.

“The guys left in September?”

“Yeah.”

“Was the club the first time you got bit since then?”

“Yeah.” Hadn’t he already told him that? He thought that was somewhere in the story he’d spilled out earlier. Maybe it was another test. Had he failed it? Probably. He’d failed the other one.

Finn shook his head again, his face way too close. “You can’t keep doing this,” he told him again. Like he expected it to magically heal him and make this need stop. “I’m not kidding, Puck. This is going to kill you and… What about Beth?”

He reared back like Finn had slapped him, but the guy already had him backed against the wall. He didn’t—couldn’t—break their hold, but he felt something in him light up like he hadn’t felt in months. Anger. Life. “What the fuck about her?”

“She’ll turn eighteen eventually,” Finn reminded him, as if he didn’t know. “What if she comes looking for you? Do you _want_ her to come out here and find out her dad died in some stupid feeder bar when he was seventeen?”

He stared back at Finn, his eyes wide. The picture he was painting made Puck feel sick. His kid, grown up and getting pointed to a tombstone instead of a person. Never seeing her again. Would she still be Quinn’s double by then? Would she look like him?

The day he signed the papers, he’d listened to Shelby’s promises about being honest. She’d tell Beth where she came from and help her find him and Quinn if she wanted to when she was old enough. It had been the only thing that helped him do it, clutching onto the promise that he might see her again one day.

He didn’t want the last time he saw her to be when she was two days old and cuddled up in a hospital blanket.

“No,” he choked out. Finn got blurry and he realized slowly that it was because his eyes were tearing up. He didn’t want to die. Not without seeing Beth again. He didn’t…

He felt tension bleed out of the hands Finn had on his neck, like he had _finally_ answered something right and passed a test. Finally.

“Good. I…” Finn sucked in a breath, nodding. “I’ll bite you.”

His breath caught, shocked, as the need made his heart pound. “What?”

“Not as much as you’re used to. I won’t. Your body can’t handle that.” Finn sighed. “They teach us stuff like this. Humans that get too much and… We need to know how to wean you guys off. It gets too risky if there are a bunch of humans running around like…”

“Like me?”

Finn’s lips thinned. “I know how to do it. Get you down to being a feeder a couple times a week or help you stop completely.” His face turned serious, more than it already had been, and Puck squirmed under it. “It’s not going to be the same kind of high, Puck. It’s won’t last as long and you’re not going to go anywhere near as deep as you probably have been.”

“But it’s a bite.”

Wrong answer. Finn’s face fell a little and he sighed again. He seemed to be making Finn do that a lot. “But it’s a bite,” he agreed sadly. “If I’m gonna do this, I need you to promise me you won’t go looking for anyone else.”

He opened his mouth to say something, that he didn’t _want_ to get weaned off or that he never asked for Finn’s help. All he’d asked for was a bite. He snapped his mouth shut, though, and nodded. Eyes closed and breath shaky, he thought about Beth. About seeing her again. About not dying before she was out of fucking diapers.

Right answer. Finn smiled, still sad, but Puck was pretty sure there was some relief in there. Those hands on his neck felt a little more gentle and he felt himself relax in Finn’s hold.

Neither of them spoke as he tilted his head to the side, offering Finn one side of his neck. Heart pounding in his chest and his breath shuddering as Finn leaned in.

Lips against his neck turned into the soft scratch of human teeth in something that almost felt like a kiss but that Puck knew was him hesitating.

Finn’s fangs came down, pressing against skin until they pierced and Puck’s breath stopped. The flash of pain, followed even quicker by the rush and the relief.

Finn was right. This bite was different. He could feel that familiar oblivion a little ways off, like he was just barely touching it with his fingers, but he couldn’t grasp it. Couldn’t take hold. Not with the slow way Finn was drinking, lips moving against his neck while his hands moved down to hold his hips.

If he wasn’t using him as food, Puck would think that the way he held him was romantic.

Puck moaned, content and blissful at the same time, and Finn pulled away. Those hands at his hips held him up as his body fell forward into his friend’s chest, boneless. He could still feel himself touching reality, floating instead of flying, as Finn led him over to the couch.

They curled up together in a mess of limbs as Finn let him cling, turning him into little more than a vampire body pillow. Lying there while Finn lapped absentmindedly at the bite mark until blood stopped flowing. The puncture marks would heal and bruise in a few hours, like they always did, but he paid it no mind. Couldn’t and didn’t want to as his mind drifted.

Finn was still with him when he came back down to earth and he pulled away slowly, rubbing at his neck. “What time is it?”

“Four. You weren’t down for too long,” Finn replied as he glanced at the clock on the wall. “We really don’t need that much when we feed.”

“But before…”

“The guys that got you into this and the people at those bars treat humans like blood banks. They take as much as they want and move on to the next donor.” Finn’s eyes flashed, angry, but not at him. Not this time. This time, the anger was for the other vampires. “We need you guys to survive, but you’re not _toys_. They don’t respect that.”

“You do.”

“Most vampires do,” Finn said. “Our feeders always come from people whose families have known about this stuff for _years_. It’s tradition. We don’t need to bring in new humans.”

He settled down to sit next to Finn instead of lying on him and turned his head towards him. “Oh.”

“It’s a game to people like them. They play into those stupid legends and make asses out of themselves.”

He nodded slowly, seeing the sense in it as much as he didn’t. Ryan and his friends had been looking for a good time, the same way the vampires at the club had. Or… Not the guy that kicked him out, he remembered suddenly. That guy had told him to get out of this stuff and save himself.

“You okay?”

“Just figuring it all out.” It was all another world for him. He’d been pulled into this world so quickly and, apparently, the wrong way. It was like Finn was teaching him a whole different view of a community he thought he’d already figured out. Maybe it was stupid to think he had. He was a human, trying to run with vampires. He wasn’t one of them.

Finn hummed like he understood, but Puck doubted he really did. Finn had grown up in this. Knowing how things ran… It had to be second nature for him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay, I guess,” Puck said, his shoulders hunched in a shrug. “Clearer than usual.”

“I didn’t take that much,” Finn mused. “Took…maybe half of what I’d do during a normal feed? You’re not dizzy, are you?”

“No.”

“What about the cravings?”

This time, Puck turned his eyes away from Finn and towards the floor. “I still want more,” he muttered, but he didn’t think Finn would be surprised by that. Finn wanted to wean him off the bites _because_ he was hooked on them. If he wasn’t, Finn never would have agreed to this.

“I can’t bite you every day,” Finn told him bluntly. “Even if I was doing half-feeds on you that often, you’d be drained before the week was up. I only see my feeder twice a week, anyway. I haven’t needed to feed every day since I was a kid.”

“So what? You’re only gonna bite me twice a week?”

The silence stretched as Finn considered the question, neither of them saying a word until Finn asked him, “Do you think you could handle that?”

Turn it around on him. _Awesome_. Puck shifted under Finn’s gaze, uncomfortable, even though he wasn’t looking at the guy’s face. “I don’t know,” he said, honest, and thought he was probably failing another test. “The way you bit me… It was different.”

“I told you it would be.”

“I know. You said it wouldn’t be as deep. I just…” He swallowed, trying to find the words. “I don’t usually feel this clear after.”

“Makes sense. You were getting fed on from how many people at once?” The question was probably rhetoric, but Puck shrugged anyway. It wasn’t like he knew how many grabbed him after he’d fallen into that fog. “You were overloading. One vampire isn’t going to cause that kind of reaction. Feeding more than one at once is _how_ you hook humans. My mom and me don’t even use the same feeder.”

“You don’t?”

Finn shook his head. “Never. When I was a kid, I had two or three so no one got hurt.”

“So if you’re gonna be using me…”

“I can tell my feeder I’ll only be using him once a week,” he said simply. “But that’s only if you think you can handle just doing two a week. I’m not doing more than that. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Twice is fine,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. The needy part of him screamed that he needed more, but he knew better. Finn wouldn’t feed enough to keep him in the kind of fog Ryan and his friends had. Besides, he’d handled going _months_ between bites. He could last a few days, right?

Finn nodded, reaching out to put one hand on Puck’s wrist. “The rest is up to you, man. We can get you down to that and work it until you’re off them for good. Or…”

“I could be a feeder?”

Finn hummed. “If that was what you wanted, but no one would train you for that until you were at _least_ eighteen. Most humans don’t even become official feeders until they’re twenty-one. You become one and you’re tied to that vampire. You can’t just decide to take off and move somewhere or take some road trip. You follow them. It’s a commitment.”

“Sounds like getting married.”

Finn laughed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Puck thinned his lips, curled inwards and caught between his teeth as he turned his eyes down to the hand Finn had on his wrist.  “Can you turn people?”

He felt more than saw Finn give a jolt at the sudden question, but the guy’s hold on him didn’t tense. “No,” Finn said simply. “We’re born. That’s not how it works.” He paused. “Would you have wanted to be?”

He shook his head and thought he’d passed a test when Finn sighed, relieved. “Just wondering.” He cleared his throat and put a hand over the one Finn had on his wrist. “Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“You’re doing the thing with my pulse,” he said. Measuring it. Their moms had taught them when they were kids, insistent that it was a good thing to know as they got involved in sports. Finn and him had always said it was the nurses in them, always teaching.

“Sorry.” He didn’t sound all that sorry, though, and he didn’t pull his hand away. He kept his fingers where they were, curled into the underside of his wrist. Holding. Counting. “How long have you known?”

Puck shrugged. “This year. Figured it out.” It hadn’t been an immediate realization. It had been something slow, breaking through the needy fog that he’d been stuck in. “I knew what to look for.”

“You never said anything.”

Puck didn’t reply that time. He didn’t think Finn would want him to, not when it opened up doors to topics neither of them wanted to talk about.

Finn sighed, heavy and sad, and shifted the hold he had on Puck’s wrist. “Are you clearing up?”

“Yeah.” Puck’s nose wrinkled and he resisted the instinct to scratch at the scabs Finn’s fangs had left behind. “Twice a week, right?”

“Right.”

It wasn’t what Puck wanted—what his body thought it needed—but he couldn’t fight it. The minor bites were more than he’d had before. He’d take what he could get.

They fell into a rhythm slowly, debating and bargaining until Puck got Finn to agree to every three days. It put them on the cusp of three a week, but Puck’s focus still slid too easily and neither of them had been too sure that he could handle a four-day gap yet.

Puck went back to school in February, Finn at his side, and listened as Carole talked to Figgins in quiet tones about depression and allowing him to catch up. He wondered if that was what Carole had told his mom when Finn had to clue her in, some half-true way of explaining away the better part of the last year.

He shifted under her gaze when she looked at him, his eyes shooting to her mouth and her hidden fangs before he looked away. She hadn’t judged him for it, simply breathed his name like he'd hurt her and drew him to her chest. Her rules had Puck at their house every third day, shut away in the privacy of Finn’s room for their feedings.

“Do they know?” he asked Finn one day as the guy locked his bedroom door behind them.

Finn nodded. “My mom told them when we moved in. They had to know why I was only meeting up with Greg once a week.” He sat down on the bed next to Puck, thumb brushing over the bruises on his neck. “They’re starting to heal better,” he mused. “Your body’s getting back into whack.”

Puck hummed softly, leaning into the familiarity of the touch. Finn always touched him more when they were in private now, gentle little touches and the way he held him during a bite. He let Puck melt into it, grounding him like he was enough to keep him from flying away. “I’m still not ready for four days,” he said before Finn could ask. “I can’t focus on shit after lunch.”

“I know. It’s gonna take time.” Finn shifted closer to him, hands turning Puck just enough so they were facing each other. “You wanna order pizza after?”

“Only if we get it from the place on Main.” Puck tilted his head as Finn leaned in. “They’re the only ones with turkey bacon.”

“Deal.” Finn’s lips pressed against his skin, always hesitating before the bite, and Puck shifted under it like he was urging the guy to get on with it. Hot breath ghosted over his neck as Finn sighed and fangs dropped. Pierced.

Puck never thought too much about the sounds he made when Finn bit him, eyes fluttering back. A gasp. A moan. Finn’s hands pressed flat against the small of his back to pull him in closer and Puck went with it, boneless, as reality fell away.

He was laid out on Finn’s chest when his mind cleared, his face pressed into the vampire’s neck. He exhaled slowly, lips brushing against the skin before he pulled away. “Hey.”

“Hey. Back with us?”

Puck nodded and showed his neck again so Finn could check the bite mark. He never tore the skin too much, but Finn always checked. “You cuddle with Greg after a feeding too?”

Finn chuckled and rolled half on top of him as fingers touched the scabs. “Sometimes. He’s not as clingy as you.”

“You have guys in your bed a lot?” The question came out casual and joking, but there was an undertone to it he hadn’t intended and they both stiffened. Wide eyes met and Finn’s fingers froze on his neck.

“Not a lot,” Finn said finally, his tone cautious. “Sometimes.”

“Oh.”

They didn’t talk about it again, falling back into their habits of food and videogames once the fuzzy feeling had faded out of Puck’s limbs. They kept a distance that didn’t feel natural, eyes focused on the TV screen until Puck finally sighed and moved closer. Their knees bumped and the tension bled out of them in some silent agreement that things were okay between them.

Rhythms. Routines. Puck caught up in school as much as he could, his grades still nowhere near what Carole insisted they could be, but enough to make him fairly certain he’d make it to senior year. He wondered how much was his actual ability and how much came from the pitying looks that got shot his way when Quinn tried to get back with Finn during one of Finn and Rachel’s off-phases in April. It didn’t work. Finn said no and Puck noticed with some surprise that he would have been okay if Finn had said yes. He wasn’t in love with her anymore. The feelings had faded as much as his old scratching habits had, just another part of his past.

It felt freeing, like a weight off his shoulders.

May came with a heat wave none of them expected and Puck stopped caring about the looks he got when people saw the bruises on his neck. They passed as hickies most days, igniting rumors about who was putting them there, but he didn’t pay them any mind.

Closed up in Finn’s room one day with the windows open, the fan on, and their shirts off, Puck met Finn’s eyes, nervous. “I think I can do four days.” It had been months since they’d started things, held back by Puck’s reluctance to change their routine, but the admission still made a smile break out across Finn’s face. Kinda made it worth it, he thought as he returned it with a tiny quirk of his lips.

Finn cupped the back of his neck with one hand, fingers playing with the hair at the bottom of his mohawk. The touch made Puck’s breath hitch. “I’m proud of you,” Finn said and Puck wasn’t sure he agreed with it, but cold air from the fan hit his back as Finn’s own hot breath hit his neck and his brain shorted out for a second.

He made a noise in the back of his throat as Finn moved in and his eyes rolled back when fangs slid in. The heat. The touch as Finn always— _always_ —pulled him closer, like it didn’t matter that sweaty chest was touching sweaty chest. Like it didn’t matter that Finn’s hands were a little lower on his hips than they used to be—and when had _that_ changed—or that he thought he might have heard Finn make a noise too.

The high came to him slower now as his body adjusted to the endorphins the right way, but Finn pulled away before it could hit him fully. Breath heavy and fangs bloody, he laid Puck down and hovered over him, staring for a long moment before he leaned in and bit him again.

Puck arched into it with a moan, hands grabbing at Finn’s shoulders as Finn pulled Puck’s hips towards his. He breathed Finn’s name like a plea and let the world fall away.

Finn was still lapping at his neck when he came back down, pressed so close that Puck thought his body was on fire. He gripped at Puck like he’d never let go and Puck realized with a soft sort of acceptance that he was okay with it.

His hand buried in Finn’s hair as Finn whispered his name into his neck. They didn’t think about it. They didn’t talk about it. They pulled away eventually, brains winning out as they remembered girlfriends and lines they shouldn’t be crossing.

Puck still went home that day with two bite marks on his neck and a mark that, this time, actually _was_ a hickey.

Finn and Rachel broke up for good at the end of July as their lives went in different directions. Her goals in New York. His own dreams he was still trying to figure out. The only thing he’d been sure about was that as much as her future was based in New York, his wasn’t. The breakup was messy, broken down into fights and Finn’s inability to tell her the truth about what he was.

Finn was late to their meeting that day, the house empty as Puck let himself in and settled down on the couch with his phone. He was losing a round of Candy Crush when Finn finally stormed in, cheeks flushed red around his usual paleness, as he grabbed Puck by the wrist. He pulled him upstairs without more than a gruff _come on_ , but Puck knew what had happened. They’d all seen the writing on the walls when junior year ended.

He used Puck’s body to shut the bedroom door with a slam, the lock forgotten as he pressed himself in close and sank his fangs in. No hesitation. None of the usual gentleness. Puck groaned, low, at the suddenness of it all and rocked his hips forward when Finn laid heavy hands on them.

Finn drank, rougher and harsher than he had before, and Puck shook apart with it. He grabbed at Finn’s shoulders like a lifeline as Finn’s hands pushed up under his shirt. Blunt nails dug into his skin, scratching and grasping, and Puck knew he’d have marks later. Bruises, probably. He knew Finn’s strength.

He didn’t mind it.

Puck was on the bed when he came to later. Finn lay behind him, arms wrapped around his middle and his fangs still out as they brushed against the skin at the back of his neck without ever piercing. It lit something up in him and Puck’s body trembled as he turned in Finn’s arms.

He kissed him with a harshness that matched the bite Finn had given him.

Finn’s fangs split a tiny cut into Puck’s lip and Puck let out a ragged moan.

Finn stopped hiding his fangs around him after that and the usual hesitation disappeared.

They never put a name to whatever was growing between them, but it didn’t stop either. The kisses. The touches. Puck told himself it was casual and ignored the uncomfortable twist in his gut. He didn’t know what Finn thought it was.

He ran into Ryan at Lima General in August, literally banged into him in a back hallway as he took a shortcut he’d learned when he was a kid. His eyes widened, surprised, as distant conversations came back to him and he remembered that Ryan’s dad worked in cardiology.

“You should come to another party,” Ryan said as he leaned in towards Puck. “You always were the _life_ of the party.” The joke fell flat and would have fit better if vampires were actually dead, but Puck didn’t call him out on it. He couldn’t, not as a knot formed in his throat and his body remembered the old high Ryan and his friends gave. The cravings flared up in him and his hands shook.

It had been a year since he’d seen him and months since he’d overloaded like that, but his body remembered. As much as he’d adjusted to the way Finn had taught him, he still felt the old want of what Ryan was offering. He didn’t say no as his brain seemed to shut down and he let Ryan back him up against the wall.

Ryan didn’t touch him like Finn did, but he did touch the bruises on Puck’s neck with a hum. “Looks like you found a new plaything, huh?” He sounded amused and if Puck’s arms hadn’t felt like they were made of lead, he would have punched him. He wondered if this was what a panic attack felt like. “You mind if I take a bite? I’m starved.”

Puck knew he wasn’t. Ryan always had someone at the ready. He never went without. Ryan just wanted, the same as he always did.

He didn’t have to answer him. Didn’t get the chance to before someone was grabbing Ryan by the shoulder and pulling him away. Finn, he realized with a sharp breath. And he was _pissed_.

Puck didn’t hear what Finn said to Ryan, the guy’s voice too low, but he saw Ryan go paler than usual before he took off. Puck would have thought it was funny if his heart wasn’t pounding in his chest.

“I could have taken care of him,” Puck said uselessly as Finn turned on him.

“That was him?” Finn asked and Puck appreciated Finn not calling him out on the lie. “That was the guy that started you?” Puck nodded, watching as Finn’s face darkened. “He was going to bite you.”

“I know,” he murmured, glancing up and down the quiet hallway like someone would turn the corner and hear them. “You need to calm down. I’m fine.” He reached for Finn’s wrist and got his hand instead. “Breathe, alright? You’re gonna pop a vein. I don’t need you take care of me.”

“You did before.” He didn’t say it unkindly, simply stated a fact.

“I know. And I don’t anymore,” he said. “Haven’t in a while.”

Finn nodded with a sigh and pressed in close to him. Hands touched his hips, lost between a gentle hold and a possessive one. Puck kissed his jaw.

“I wanna take you home,” Finn said as he leaned in towards Puck neck.

“Still have two more days,” Puck reminded him and thought he’d passed a test. It had been months since he thought of things in passing and failing, but he felt Finn smile against his skin and give a little nip with human teeth.

“Not for that.”

“We’re supposed to meet your mom for lunch.”

“Accident on Kensington. She’s gonna be in surgery all day,” Finn told him and kissed him properly. It was uncharted territory, kissing where people could see them, but Puck relaxed into it with a sigh as Finn pressed him into the wall. He wasn’t used to Finn getting possessive, but the hand on his ass was enough of a clue that Ryan had ignited something. “Home.”

The ride back to Finn’s was quiet, filled with a tension they weren’t used to, and it continued as they got to his room. Puck locked the door as Finn pressed up against his back and he felt the familiar sensation of fangs on skin.

“Thought you weren’t biting me.”

“I’m not.” Finn flattened his hands against Puck’s stomach, fingers just barely peeking underneath his shirt to touch. “I wanna try something.”

“You gonna tell me?” Puck turned around and Finn’s fingertips dipped under the waistband of his jeans instead. “When did you get the balls for this?”

Finn huffed out a laugh. “Around the time you started moaning every time I bit you. Have you _heard_ yourself?” He pressed his forehead to Puck’s and sighed. “You know I like you, right? More than just-”

“I know,” he whispered. “Me too.”

Finn smiled, fangs on full display, and Puck kissed him again. Short. Simple. They didn’t need more than that.

By the time they reached the bed, all that was left were Finn’s boxers. He hovered over Puck, fangs out and scratching down Puck’s body. Teasing. Never biting. Puck jumped with each taunt, but he shuddered when Finn leaned in and licked a line up his neck.

“You’re gonna drive me insane.”

“That’s the point.”

Finn never bit him, but the world still seemed to fall away. Lips. Hands. Puck spared a second to try and remember if anyone else was home before he decided he didn’t care. He moaned, loud, and pulled Finn back up towards him. The slide and friction of their bodies moving together.

Finn came first, face pressed into his neck and body locked up so much that Puck thought he might bite him by accident. He didn’t, but he did slide his way down Puck’s body to finish things. Hands. Mouth. Puck came with a shout and a new hickey forming on the inside of his thigh.

Carole was the one that called them boyfriends, laughing as Puck shoved birthday cake in Finn’s face. They looked at each other, more surprised by the title than they should have been, but they both smiled and the agreement was as simple as anything. They kissed like it sealed the deal and Kurt rolled his eyes at them.

“We’re proud of you, Noah,” Carole said as he unwrapped a book about feeders. “How far you’ve come…”

He didn’t thank them as his cheeks flushed, torn between proud and still kicking himself for how bad things had gotten. How bad he’d let them get. He hadn’t realized back then, too lost in his own head and the fog to care about what he was doing to himself or the risks he was taking.

“You want to do it?” Finn asked him later. The little birthday dinner was long over, plates cleaned away, and Puck had situated himself on Finn’s bed with the book Carole had given him, reading. “You really want to be a feeder?”

“Yeah. I decided a while ago.”

Finn sat down next to him and took the book from Puck’s hands. “You’re sure?”

Puck nodded. “Yeah. I let things get bad, because when I was out, I didn’t need to think about Beth. I wasn’t with it enough _to_ think about her,” he said. “But I’m okay now. I think I finally made my peace with it.” He shook his head. “It’s not just about the bites anymore. I mean, I don’t think I could quit them completely, but I’m not using them to hide anymore. It’s not about that. I like them, but it’s about you too.” He shrugged one shoulder and smiled. “I like feeding you. I feel like I’m doing something good.”

Finn kissed him, slow and smiling into it. “Right answer,” he said softly when he pulled away. “I’m proud of you too, you know. I figured you didn’t want me getting sappy in front of everyone.”

“I didn’t.”

Finn chuckled. “Hold on. I have one other gift.” He pulled a little box from his dresser drawer, covered in Star Wars wrapping paper, and handed it over. “Most people,” he started as Puck tore the paper open, “they start out with family friends as feeders. It’s how we ended up with Greg’s family and why Burt’s got Bonnie’s. When we get older, though, we choose someone to be ours and when we ask, we give a gift.”

He pulled in a breath as Puck popped open the black case and stared at the leather band inside. It was thicker than the bracelets he had, brown and stamped out with some kind of twisting gold design that looked like a Celtic knot. “Will you be mine?” he asked and Puck could hear the nervous shake to his voice. “We never really talked about it and I didn’t want to just assume you were gonna stick with feeding. If you’re gonna do it, you’re gonna have a ton of training to do, but-”

Puck cut him off with a kiss, one hand holding the back of Finn’s neck as he straddled his lap. “Yes, you asshole.” He laughed and pressed their foreheads together. “You’re acting like you just proposed.”

Finn chuckled, happy and relieved. “I kinda did. You weren’t wrong before when you said it was kind of like marriage. Being someone’s feeder means that you follow them. If I move, you move. You still have a life, but you have to put someone else first.”

“Already knew that part. I’m good.” He pulled back a bit, fingers working at the clasps of the bracelets he was wearing. “Give me a hand.”

He shut the old ones away in the box while Finn put the new one on him. It shut with a snap, the leather soft against his skin, and he smiled.

“This doesn’t have some secret vampire language on it that says _I own his ass_ or something, does it?”

They laughed into the kisses that followed, limbs tangled together as Finn pressed him back into the pillows.

“I want you to do a real feed,” he said when Finn’s fangs brushed his neck.

Finn pulled back, eyes wide. “Are you sure?”

“Yep. It’s my job now.” He lifted the arm that had the cuff around the wrist and his face softened. “I’m ready.”

Finn cupped his cheek when he kissed him, slow and full of things Puck would define later. Declarations and promises and Puck thought they might need to use real words this time. Some things needed to actually be said.

He tangled their fingers together, gasping when Finn’s fangs pierced his skin. The usual feelings came, slower now as his body adjusted to the endorphins and the familiarity. He didn’t drop as fast as he used to, enjoying the slowness of it more as Finn drank.

He went deeper as his mind began to drift, lost in the extra endorphins that came with the longer bite. Familiar and unfamiliar. It wasn’t the same oblivion he’d touched before, lost as he got handed around. A single vampire. A true feed. He could still feel the grounding pressure of Finn’s hands on him and his body pressing down on top of him. He felt safe. Whole.

He wondered if that was how Greg felt when Finn fed and felt a jolt of jealousy shoot through him before he let it go. He’d seen Finn feed before. Watched it and saw the friendship and the business-like way Finn and Greg treated it. It wasn’t the same.

A little more and Puck stopped thinking about anything at all.

Finn’s hand was in his hair when he came down, his limbs heavy and his brain somewhere between clear and a strange calm. He pulled Finn down into a kiss, clumsy, and wondered if he was still floating. “Twice a week?” he asked, surprised at how husky his voice sounded.

Finn hummed, the tone just as low. “Four days.”

“No more Greg?”

“No more Greg.”

Puck smiled and pulled him closer. “No more talking?”

Finn rolled on top of him and tugged at the hem of his t-shirt. “Deal.”

The End

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Glee fic I've posted on Ao3, but I have years-worth of fics (gen, Quick, and Pinn) that I can't be bothered to cross-post. It would take forever. My other fics can be found on [FFN](https://www.fanfiction.net/~animegirl23) and scattered throughout my fanfic tag on [Tumblr](http://ice-whisper.tumblr.com/tagged/fanfiction).


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